


Forever Young

by laceyalexandria



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Action & Romance, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Magic, Nephilim, Originally Posted on Wattpad, Slow Romance, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Bites, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Turning, Warlocks, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceyalexandria/pseuds/laceyalexandria
Summary: THEY SAY LOVE at first sight isn't real and most would be correct in assuming so and taking this statement as fact. But some? Some would do well to ignore it, to strive for it, to listen to their heart when it screams at them, over and over, "This is the one! It's him. He's your fallen star."Even when the odds begin to stack against them and every moment and every caress and every whispered word is treasured as the last — they can't fight what's meant to be. Evil rears its ugly head and threatens them, their hearts shiver in fear but they lock hands and fight through the waves together.Nothing can break the bonds of fate.They'll be together, young and in love, forever. Through life or death. Through strength and weakness. Through humanity and vampirism. This is the way the story was meant to be but it was written on paper, not stone.
Relationships: Simon Lewis & Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	1. Vampire Hunters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kayla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayla/gifts).



> Hello! This was originally posted on Wattpad (my user is @monaghanboyy) but I've decided I'm going to start moving things over here and I figured FOREVER YOUNG was a good starting point to introduce myself to this site. 
> 
> This will update when I have time. I'm currently posting everything that was already on Wattpad, but with small edits made. Please keep in mind that this is not the best version, only the current one! I will be updating it with better writing in the future.

12:56 am.

"WHAT'S THIS SECRET meeting all about, Raphael? You know I actually have places to be, believe it or not. Russell wanted to hang out tonight and I was finally going to ask him—"

A dark, solemn expression possessed Raphael's face, one that instantly killed the rest of Simon's words before they left his lips. Every syllable dried on his tongue and he resigned himself to silence, lips set into a firm line. He bowed his head lower. "Sorry..."

Raphael turned away from Simon to the other vampires who had been called to meeting in Hotel Dumort. The building was as dark and as gothic as ever, shrouded in shadow with a full moon hanging behind them in the night sky. A chilly breeze kissed the back of Simon's neck and he pulled up his collar almost instinctively before remembering the cold didn't affect him the way it used to. Almost woefully, Simon glanced around at the pale faces surrounding him to make sure no one had seen his mistake.

If anyone had, they (thankfully) didn't speak up about it. Everyone's attention was on Raphael. He stood stock-still in front of the large group, stoic and stone-faced like Theodore Roosevelt on Mount Rushmore. The image of a leader.

"I'm sure many of you have noticed," Raphael began, "a growing problem within our community. Specifically with vampires. The Clave is also aware of this problem, though I'm sure they don't particularly care. That's okay." The leader of these vampires shrugged nonchalantly, presenting the 'problem' as more insignificant than it actually was. The action itself showed Simon something deeper within Raphael and his stomach twisted with a new sense of anxiety. He wanted Raphael to spit it out already. What was going on? "We can deal with these hunters ourselves."

Hunters? Simon felt his lips twisting into a frown. There had been hunters? Rogue Shadowhunters? Valentine Morgenstern's goons? Some group that was more sinister? He only had to wait for a beat before Raphael seemingly read the room's reaction and picked up on the confusion of a few in the lobby. Surely, he couldn't be the only one questioning what exactly Raphael was talking about.

"They call themselves the Chasseurs."

Simon glanced at the elder vampire next to him. She was a woman with shiny brown curls and big doelike eyes. He smiled faintly at her, "It's French," he explained helpfully. "Means 'hunters'. Kind of a dumb name if you ask me."

The vampire turned away from Simon, instead training her eyes directly on Raphael, unimpressed by his tidbit of knowledge. Simon awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded to himself. He'd felt this social rejection before. It was a sharp tingling that started in the heels of his feet and shot up his legs faster than venom spreading through a bloodstream. The tingling was replaced by an empty void that left Simon trying to catch his balance before he fell over. It was a feeling he was growing used to, being the outsider of the Night's Children.

"Right," he mumbled under his breath. "Awkward."

"The Chasseurs," Raphael continued without pause, "aren't very happy with vampires right now. I'm not even sure they know about the existence of other Downworlders, but they're quickly becoming dangerous. Unpredictable. Unstable. I do not want any of you to draw attention to yourselves. If these hunters come after you, I cannot guarantee your safety."

Soft murmurs ran through the crowd. Unsure looks were exchanged between friends and every vampire in the room seemed put off by that simple statement. If Raphael couldn't protect them then just how bad were these hunters?

Raphael glanced at Simon.

He swallowed thickly and looked down at his shoes, wondering if Raphael knew exactly what message he was giving to the Night's Children. He was saying that their leader was powerless against the Chasseurs, he was advising them to, as they had always done, hide and go furthermore into seclusion. Like animals. As if it weren't enough that many of them had left behind their lives after their transformations, now they would possibly have to deny this part of themselves.

"Raphael!" An angry voice called out for their leader. Raphael's head snapped towards the voice, making Simon dizzy as he followed. The vampire's dark eyes didn't have to search long until they landed on the outspoken man. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He waited to hear what the protester had to say, hands folded in front of him patiently. "Why can't we just get a group together and exterminate these assholes?"

The very suggestion brought an uproar and cacophony of sound so sharp and overlapping it made Simon wince and turn his head away from the tsunami. The idea was a logical one that many had probably already arrived to but Simon knew what Raphael's answer would be before it fell heavy from his lips like stones being cast as a punishment upon a single soul. The uproar died to hear their leader's response and the room was entirely quiet.

"If that were an option, Antony, don't you think I would have killed them myself?"

Raphael gave the entire room a scathing look, jaw set firmly in place and shoulders tensing up against the crowd like he was ready for his words to be challenged again. He looked ready for a fight until he turned to Simon. Raphael's eyes met Simon's and he took a slow, deep breath. Every tension melted away from his body and he stood relaxed once more.

Simon sent him an encouraging smile.

The answer was accepted. Antony was silent. Raphael was composed again and he ran a hand down his front, smoothing out the expensive fabric of his suit. "I don't want any of you going against these hunters — they'll find you, they'll torture you, and they'll kill anyone who consorts with you. They're not against hurting your family." Raphael glanced at Simon and he could feel heads in the room swivel to see what Raphael was looking at. He withered under the attention. "They're not against hurting your loved ones. They'll use them against you. So lay low. I will deal with this personally, I assure you. If you see anyone suspicious or think someone's following you, don't come back to Dumort. The last thing we need is the Chasseurs finding our home."

Raphael turned away from the vampires and left the lobby. When he exited, soft murmurs of conversation took up the mantle of the silence, and Simon was left standing alone in a crowd full of people. Albeit, dead people, but still people! He gazed around the crowd for a moment before following after Raphael, jogging to catch up to him.

"Raphael!"

He didn't even turn to look over his shoulder at Simon's call. Instead, Raphael stood alone on the front steps of Dumort and was staring up at the moon hanging high in the dark sky. It was radiant. Simon closed the front doors and came to a stop just behind Raphael's right shoulder, following his gaze to the moon and its stars. The sky was beautiful at night, clear of clouds and the full moon shone brightly on the earth below, reminiscent of the daylight Simon was beginning to miss.

From Simon's perspective, shadows were cast over Raphael's strong, yet elegant, features. He was stoic once more and Simon could tell he was brooding over something. He suspected it was about the Chasseurs (it's what Simon was worried about, anyway) but didn't opt to speak his thoughts to Raphael. This felt like a moment for silence, reflection, and contemplation.

However, Raphael clearly didn't feel the same and he was the first to break the silence.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do about these hunters, Simon. They're bad news. They're everything that would've been our reality if not for Clave Law. In fact, they almost were our reality." Raphael sighed so deeply and heavily that Simon imagined the weight of this new worry being dropped on his shoulders as bags of heavy rocks, weighing him down until he was weary to his bones. "I need you to stay off the radar, Simon. Don't leave your house, don't draw attention to yourself, don't even text or call anyone without my permission. Understand me?"

Simon felt completely thrown off balance by the clear and direct commands given to him as if Raphael just expected Simon to have no quarrel with his words. Simon opened his mouth to say as much when Raphael looked over his shoulder directly at him. It made Simon stop, mouth open.

Raphael's dark eyes bored into Simon's and they begged him not to argue, not to fight against his orders. Simon couldn't recall seeing an expression so desperate or pleading on his face before and the realization hit him like a semi-truck that these hunters, whoever they really were, were horrible. Nothing made Raphael flinch. Nothing made him question his leadership or his ability to keep his family safe but these men were making Raphael question himself. That alone spoke volumes of the dangers ahead.

Simon forgot to close his mouth and he did so, abruptly. "I understand," he spoke in a gentle tone, far gentler than he'd ever used with his friend before. "But I can't even talk to Clary? Or Russell? He and I were supposed to—"

"I know what you were supposed to do, Simon," Raphael turned his body to face away from the street in front of the hotel. "And you can't talk to Clary, much less your mundane. These hunters could use them to get to you. If they even suspect you're a vampire, I can guarantee that they'll be talking to your family and your friends. After talking doesn't work, they'll move to more... physical persuasions."

"But!—"

Raphael shushed him quietly. "No. That's your answer, no to both. Stay at home and only answer when I call you, understand? Don't call me first. I will call you when you're safe to resume whatever little activities you and that mundie get up to whenever you're alone. I don't want them to exploit you, Simon."

A frown crossed Simon's face. He turned away from Raphael and glanced at the stars in the sky, they twinkled at him in greeting. "He has a name, you know."

"I know," Raphael shrugged. "I never claimed to care. He's your boyfriend anyways, not mine."

"Russell is not my boyfriend!"

"Oh?"

Heat rushed up the back of Simon's neck, flooding his pale cheeks with fire as he'd never felt before. Bristling slightly, Simon looked down at Raphael and bit the inside of his cheek. "He's not! We're just friends, I've known him nearly as long as Clary."

"And yet you liked Clary," Raphael pointed out. He reached up a hand and patted Simon's shoulder twice, fighting the twitch of his lips that brought a little smile to his face. "It's okay, Simon. Russell's very handsome, he's charming, even. You said you wanted to ask him out, right? I know that's what you were going to do tonight but you're going to have to wait."

"Wait for what, though?" Simon sighed. "There's always waiting. Every time I work up the courage to do it, something happens and it shatters me entirely from the inside like pieces of glass cutting me into ribbons. I'm always waiting for the right moment. I'm tired of waiting, Raphael. Can't I at least have Russell with me while I stay at home?"

It was Raphael's turn to frown. He removed his hand and put it in his suit's front pocket, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. "You'd be putting him in danger, Simon."

"How do you know that though?"

"Because they're watching all of us," Raphael stepped closer into Simon's personal space until they were nearly chest to chest and nose to nose. Simon swallowed thickly at the proximity of his leader. He wanted to say something but found he couldn't even open his mouth. "You might not have noticed the way things are changing lately, Simon, but people have been following us. We're being tracked and hunted down like prey, like deer or small game. They don't see the good parts of us, all the Chasseurs see are no-do-goods and criminals. Do you want them to include Russell anywhere in those categories?"

Simon deflated. "... No."

"I know," Raphael replied softly as he stepped back and Simon found he could suddenly breathe again. "I promise that as soon as I deal with this, you can go back to him for as long as you want. Take a trip together or something, get out of Brooklyn for a while. But until then? Stay low and keep watch."

Raphael walked back into Hotel Dumort and left Simon standing on the steps, subdued and very suddenly feeling less than he actually was. Simon looked up to the moon, alone, and wondered if Russell was looking at the moon too. They'd made plans to watch a movie together and then hang out at Simon's, but after Raphael calling the meeting, Simon knew he couldn't explain his absence to Russell. So he'd blown him off.

He might not understand.

And besides, he didn't even know what Simon really was. He couldn't, not yet anyway. None of this business with Raphael and the other vampires could be explained to a mundane because nothing would make sense. There were no words to get around the facts of the matter and describe that Simon couldn't have Russell next to him during this time; none that would get through to Russell, at least.

Simon shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket and walked away from Dumort, head bent low as he made his way home with thoughts of his friend and the growing vampire threat swirling in his mind.


	2. Bloodlust

9:30 am.

SIMON LAY IN the middle of his messy room on the floor with his arms extended by his sides like a straw scarecrow strung up in the middle of a cornfield. His dark hair was messy and falling over his forehead, his eyes felt dry and sunken in, and his teeth ached badly. The sharp pain in Simon's mouth was the only thing keeping him awake at that point. Each time he dozed off or closed his eyes, his fangs would ache and throb so violently that the pain dragged him back into the harsh grey reality of the world once more. The fangs felt like two steel rods sticking out of his mouth. They were begging for blood.

He was getting hungry whether he wanted to admit it or not. Simon wasn't proud of feeding, he didn't take pleasure from the undertaking and had always held off the bloodlust for as long as he could, even when Raphael urged him to give in to his instincts more often than his mother about wanting Simon to keep a clean room.

It just wasn't something a human did.

Who was Simon Lewis, truly, without his humanity? What did he then become when he embraced the iniquity and darkness swirling inside of his body like a tornado waiting to break free? What happened to Simon, lovable sixteen-year-old Jewish nerd, when he fully accepted the fact that he just wasn't human anymore? He was scared to face that reality, even now after being a vampire for months and having been through several lifetimes worth of danger. It was terrifying.

Another painful jab made Simon turn over on his right side to face away from his bed, right arm cushioned between his head and the floor while the other bent forward awkwardly in front of him. Simon curled tighter into himself, body shaking against an unseen chill as a soft groan escaped through his clenched jaw. He'd never felt the pangs passing through his body this strong before. The bloodlust had been worse than this in other times and ways but now it was just painful and full of longing.

Images of Simon sinking his fangs deep into a neck flash before his eyes. He closes them tightly, left hand flying to his hair to entangle his fingers in the short, dark tendrils there. Vampiric instincts and his steadily growing bloodlust were signaling to Simon exactly what he needed to do to quell the tide of pain. With an uncharacteristic animalistic growl, Simon tugs at his hair hard enough to banish the images for a few blissful moments.

_This can't keep happening,_ Simon thought to himself. _It only gets worse if I don't feed. How am I supposed to lay low if I'm like this?_

Simon didn't know the answer to his own question but supposed he was only lucky that his mother had left for work hours ago and couldn't hear him no matter how loud he was growling at himself. _That_ would hard to explain.

Another shiver sieged Simon's form, taking over his entire body and infiltrating the residence of his lungs before settling down again. Simon groaned gently and was plagued by a bloodlust vision of Russell. Even with his eyes closed, the image played perfectly in front of Simon's eyes and he felt powerless to stop it as he saw himself biting Russell's bare neck. In the image, Simon saw himself grabbing Russell and pulling him close like one would do if they were going to kiss another. In the end, the Bloodlust Simon holds Russell in place with a firm hand and bites his friend without a second of hesitation.

_No._

Simon told himself he wouldn't dare touch Russell or force his own needs onto someone else, onto someone who didn't deserve nor want to be fed from. It wasn't right, it was a line he refused to cross. Russell was _off-limits_. Off-limits. He couldn't be dragged into this in any way.

As if Simon's own body was rebelling against his mind, the bloodlust vision of Russell plagued him once more. He blinked several times, he growled, he tugged harder at his hair until the roots screamed at him that he'd be removing them from their home if he didn't stop his onslaught. Russell was in the visions, Clary was in them too. Simon could even picture his own sister or mother in his hands as he drank deeply from the arteries on the sides of their necks.

"No," Simon grunted to himself. "No."

He shook his head like the move would clear his mind of the thoughts and images as if they'd just go tumbling out if he could loosen them enough. It helped, but the difference was insignificant and it turned out to be ultimately useless.

Simon's back pocket buzzed once, twice. The phone had been ringing and blowing up with missed text messages and calls all of last night after the meeting at Hotel Dumort and in the morning which Simon had been painfully awake for. He didn't bother to look at it to know who was texting and calling him.

Last night before the meeting was called to order, Simon and Russell had plans to go watch a movie together in the theater. The movie was supposed to be one of the critically acclaimed slasher films but Simon had only been willing to go because Russell liked those types of movies. He was willing to do anything if Russell was beside him, and they'd always been that way. One was always there for the other, one was always listening, and one was always lending a helping hand.

And yet, Simon ditched him.

For good reason, of course, and at Raphael's command. It was better to keep Russell in the dark, he'd be safe there and nothing could hurt him if it couldn't see him. Clary was a slightly different story; she was a Shadowhunter now, she knew about business like this and was certainly going to be dealing with it from now on but Simon hasn't even been allowed to fill Clary in either.

Raphael thought it best if neither knew about the Chasseurs. _They'll only be used against you,_ Raphael's voice came soft and quiet in Simon's mind. _They'll get hurt if they try to intervene. This is something we have to take care of. It's vampire business and should be dealt with by vampires_.

Simon knew Raphael wasn't wrong, he just didn't want to accept it. Clary and Russell had been there for Simon through everything in his life, except for Russell with Simon's transformation into a vampire (he knew nothing about that either) but otherwise, they'd all always been there to support one another. It didn't matter if the trio had been apart for months or years — they'd always come back together with smiles and open arms.

He missed that and how simple the dynamic used to be. Now there were real feelings involved and Simon was forced to be one person with Russell and a different one with Clary. The beautiful Shadowhunter, in all of her glory, still expected Simon to be there for her after everything he'd gone through and, while he wasn't going to fight the instinct to be by her side and protect her, he wasn't sure how long he could keep the back-and-forth up.

While Simon was busy with Clary and Raphael and the other vampires, he was neglecting his relationship with Russell. They used to hang out on a daily basis and now the easygoing teenager had no idea about Simon's double lifestyle (or would it be a triple lifestyle in this case?). As a result, Russell was in the dark and despite Simon's growing feelings of affection and love for the other boy, he knew it couldn't happen. For both of their sakes.

He'd be in chest-deep before Russell had even dipped a toe in the water and, from past experience, Simon knew it wasn't a good quality to fall so fast and so hard for someone, but this time everything felt... _real_. Genuine. Tangible. It was inexplicable yet universal at the same time, something nobody had a hard time understanding but something that nobody could find the right words to explain.

Simon couldn't put that in danger.

He wouldn't, he refused to. No matter how much he wanted, Simon would simply have to resist and that was that.

Another pang shot through Simon's body. He curled tighter into himself, fangs aching so bad he felt like it would be a better idea to knock out his own teeth than to let the pain continue to overcome him like this. Simon tore his left hand free of his hair and grabbed his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. It was still buzzing with text messages and missed calls.

Simon pulled the glowing screen close to his face, hands shaking as he scrolled through his notifications.

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Russell 💗**  
_Where are you? Movie starts soon!_  
(Yesterday, 10:45 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Clary 👻**  
_Simon, I could really use some advice right_  
_now. Call me as soon as you can._  
(Yesterday, 10:50 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Russell 💗**  
_Siiiiiimonnnn?_  
(Yesterday, 10:51 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**One missed call from Russell 💗**  
(Yesterday, 10:55 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Russell 💗**  
_Are you alright? Do I need to come over?_  
_We can cancel if you're not feeling well!_  
(Yesterday, 11:10 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Russell 💗**  
_I called your mom, she doesn't know where_  
_you are and I'm getting really worried. She_  
_is too. I hope you're okay, Simon._  
(Yesterday, 11:57 pm)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Clary 👻**  
_Russell's getting worried about you, text_  
_him back, Simon. I tried to tell him you're_  
_fine and your phone just died but I'm not_  
_sure he believes it._  
(Today, 12:40 am)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Clary 👻**  
_Whatever business you and Raphael are doing_  
_right now can be set aside for a moment. You_  
_can't leave Russell waiting around, I think_  
_he's going to your house soon or something._  
(Today, 12:41 am)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Two missed calls from Clary 👻 and Mom**  
(Today, 12:44 am)

└─────────── ──────────┘

┌─────────── ──────────┐

**Mom**  
_Simon Lewis, I don't care what you're doing_  
_right now, you need to call me. You missed_  
_your date with Russell! He was very worried_  
_when you didn't show up but now you're not_  
_answering your messages either? Pick up the_  
_phone._  
(Today, 12:54 am)

└─────────── ──────────┘

Simon groaned quietly when he saw his mom's text message. The bloodlust had started to overcome him after the meeting at Hotel Dumort when he was walking home, that's when his fangs had taken up their incessant protesting against Simon's humanity which stopped him from feeding as soon as he needed to. He'd arrived just after one-thirty in the morning and went straight to his room, but by that point, his mom was already asleep. She was on the living room couch when he passed her, she'd probably been so worried and drained that she'd fallen asleep.

He supposed she must've poked her head in Simon's room before she went to work when he was trying to sleep, but he couldn't recall the memory of any such interruption like that. Whatever hot water Simon had landed himself into was being put off for the moment. And just as Simon thought the bloodlust was beginning to fade away, another surge of agony overtook Simon's nerves and forced him to release a pained cry.

Simon dropped his phone on the floor, both hands flying to either side of his jaw. He turned over onto his back and slammed his eyes shut faster than lightning could strike. Even though he hated doing it, Simon had to feed soon before the bloodlust could take over his faculties and make him do things he would regret.

He had to—

The phone beside him started ringing, the crisp call of the bell cutting through the vampiric illusions created by Simon's mind. For a moment he could glance over and see the name on the screen.

It was Russell.


	3. Santiago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I'm adding from Wattpad! Everything published after this chapter will be added here first, and Wattpad second. Please enjoy. (: I've been brainstorming for this story for a long time now.

11:47 pm. It is storming.

THE STORM DID nothing to impede Raphael Santiago's progress through the streets of Brooklyn. The darkness in the sky unfurled in all directions, casting its shroud over the looming buildings and raining heavily upon the shelter of the people inside them. Lightning lit the sky once, twice and Raphael could see the outlines of looming structures all made of brick, concrete, and steel around him. The streets at this time were mostly abandoned but the night owls and partygoers still wandered across his path from time to time as they headed to their next destination.

Raphael kept his head down and his pace quick, this was business that had to be attended to as soon as possible. With the Chasseurs making rapid dominion over the five boroughs, time was of the essence and he couldn't be seen. The rain was good cover, though it made quick work of soaking his clothes through and through. If he'd been able to feel the cold anymore, he'd be shivering to the bone.

He could only imagine what would happen to a lone vampire caught out on the streets by the Chasseurs.

Raphael had heard of and seen the evidence of fangs torn out by pliers, crosses scorched into shivering pale skin, and even throats burned by the consumption of holy water, presumably forced down one's throat like a form of vampiric waterboarding. The bodies of his people strung upside down in mockery of their semblance to bats, throats cut so they bled dry with their fangs on the ground below them — he grimaced and kept his eyes to the sidewalk.

Thinking of what he'd seen was enough to give the vampire the feeling of bugs crawling under his skin. The violence and heartlessness of their actions were too much. These hunters were ruthless, Raphael suspected they wouldn't even spare a child who stood in the way of their mission. The accumulation of this hatred was like nothing they'd seen since the medieval days of swords and pitchforks; a time Raphael hadn't been around for but had heard avidly about.

He walked for a few more minutes and pulled up to a stop beside an old apartment building where most lights were off in the windows above and vines were growing up the walls. It was as if time was forgetting the building and nature was reclaiming the brick and mortar for its own, shoving a big fat 'F-You' in the face of modern society. And not just the 'F'. Raphael was rather fond of the aesthetic the more he looked at it; cracked windows and peeling paint on the door in front of him was a nice look even with pouring rain obscuring most of his vision.

With a fierce jab at the buzzer for a room on the third floor, Raphael quickly uttered the password under his breath. " _Todo lo ve_."

The door unlocked for the stairwell and Raphael tried his best to be inconspicuous as he closed the door firmly behind him and made his way to the third floor. Water dripped from his suit and puddles beneath his shoes but he paid no mind to it as he bounded up the steps two at a time. This apartment building was also a perfect hiding place for old Olga No-Eyes, a Slavic elder who'd lived in Brooklyn for almost sixty years now since leaving her homeland. When it came to the matters of the city, Downworlder business and all, Olga knew what was happening. Nothing could get past her.

She had a particular talent for clairvoyance.

Olga No-Eyes was likened to the Ancient Greek Oracle, and for good reason. Her talent to see things happening all around her at any point in time was a unique ability that, from Raphael's very limited understanding, she'd possessed her entire life. It was eerie to know that a woman without eyes knew exactly what you looked like and what your inner desires were, but that was how Olga operated.

Nothing could be simple with that woman and she'd have it no other way.

Rain lashed angrily against the apartment building but sounded muffled in the dim stairwell, the sound accompanied by the rumbling drum of thunder outside.

The door to Olga's apartment was painted red as if in welcome of all passerby, drawing not only their eyes and attention but also their curiosity. None of the other doors in the apartment building were red. They varied between grey, brown, and black. One was even a dark evergreen, but not Olga's door. Under Raphael's knuckles, the wood was strong and his knocks were heard as clear as a blaring trumpet above the weather outside.

Raphael waited a moment, listening to the inside of the apartment for acknowledgment of his presence. A muffled shout of something similar to _Enter!_ came from inside before he tried the doorknob and turned it easily. It was unlocked.

The inside of Olga's apartment was cluttered, to say the least. As soon as Raphael stepped into the doorway, there were vivaciously colored carpets, heavy drapes, and murals hung on every space of the wall, centered on the floor, and around the few windows allowed to Olga's apartment. He thought it strange that a blind woman would have decorated in such bright and beautiful colors when she'd never see a thing of her surroundings but he had to admit that the decoration, although not his style (by a long shot), was tasteful.

The vampire briefly wondered if this is what Slavic homes were like; tight, brightly colored, not a bare wall in sight. He closed the door gently behind him and made his way to Olga's living room where he knew the old clairvoyant always sat in her armchair, facing a window she'd never be able to see out of. Rain attacked the glass and wind howled but she sat silently. He cleared his throat quietly, trying to see if Olga knew he was in the room.

She did.

"Come closer, Raphael Ortiz Santiago." Olga's voice was a low-pitched growl, something entirely opposite of what you'd expect from the woman. She sat upright in her dark green armchair, a patchwork blanket thrown over her lap. Olga was one of the thinnest humans Raphael had ever seen, about as big around as his pinkie finger but still alive and kicking. And that voice — as expected, Olga held a lit cigarette in an elegant black cigarette holder, raising it to her lips to inhale deeply and exhale a long plume of smoke.

It wafted upwards as Raphael obeyed and moved to stand just in front of Olga's chair.

The Slavic woman had no eyes. Her sockets were bare to the world, covered in wrinkled skin that promised countless decades of age. Wisps of brittle grey hair hung from her scalp, ending just above Olga's waist in a tight braid held together with the help of various bands and made interesting with colored beads woven into her hair. Perhaps if she'd had a lighter voice and beautiful green eyes, Olga would have made a lovely older woman, but she didn't. Not to say she wasn't beautiful, just... unique. Ancient. An acquired taste.

"You know my name?" Raphael folded his hands behind his back as he stared down at Olga. Her lack of eyes didn't give him the feeling that he wasn't being watched, her head constantly followed his every movement like a cobra waiting to strike and he had a sneaking suspicion that the old woman knew everything going on around her at all times.

"I know all names," Olga's voice was deep and scratchy. She clearly smoked. "Like the name of the vampire boy you're in love with, or the name of the human boy he's in love with. I know the names of your friends, your family, your enemies. Nothing and no one can hide from me. I see all."

Raphael tried his best to ignore the gnawing embarrassment at the bottom of his stomach. He glanced away, the silence weighing in the room thrown off balance with the rain and wind before he remembered that Olga couldn't see the expression on his face. "I'm not in love." His voice was soft as he protested the statement but moved to speak no more. For a moment, he was afraid she couldn't hear him over the weather.

In front of him, Olga shrugged her narrow shoulders. She raised her cigarette to her lips once more and sighed, the smoke leaving her nostrils like a dragon. Her Slavic accent became heavier now. "Even if you lie to yourself, you can't lie to me. I've seen it, Raphael, and so it is. But... that's not why you're here. No, you came because of the vampire hunters. Didn't you?"

It wasn't necessarily a question, but Raphael nodded anyways. "Yes, Olga. My people are in growing danger the longer the Chasseurs are here in the boroughs."

" _'The Chasseurs'_ ," she sighed heavily and sank further into her armchair, "I've always thought it was a rather dumb name."

Raphael held back a snort and remembered hearing a similar sentence just the night before. Warmth filled his heart. "Simon said the same thing."

A thin smile cracked through the wrinkles on Olga's face, giving the vampire a peek of her yellowing teeth. Probably from the nicotine of her smoking habit. "He did," she acknowledged. "He's very smart, Raphael. He's also very stupid."

"He has his moments."

"Even so," Olga tilted her head to the right and tapped lightly on her cigarette holder, keeping the lit cigarette above her ashtray on a gnarled oak end table beside her chair. "Simon Lewis is important during this time. Smart or stupid, you'll want to protect him. He hasn't been noticed by the hunters yet but there will come a time when he's their sole focus — that's all I can say. That's the time that you'll want to keep an eye on him."

What could that mean?

Raphael frowned, his brow furrowed as he leaned over to bring his head level with Olga's. He could hear the clairvoyant's heart beating; smooth, steady, weaker than when she was younger. It inadvertently sped up as he came closer. "You have to say more, Olga."

"No!" The old woman shook her head. There was a sudden intensity in the way she spoke, spitting her words like they were poisoned. "No, I can't. If I tell you too much, you'll change the outcome of what's meant to happen. You can't do that, that's not allowed."

"Says who?" Raphael retorted. He was beginning to feel an unfamiliar pressure in his chest, it tightened the more she refused to talk to him. "It's just us here, Olga! You can tell me everything and nothing bad will come of it. If Simon or Russell are in danger at any point, you have to tell me. Please! I care about them."

Olga leaned forward, looking suddenly as if she had the strength to leap out of her green armchair and strangle Raphael for raising his voice. Her own voice was strong, accent thicker as she grew upset. "Because you _'care about them'_?" She mocked. "For a vampire, you sound like a little child! Fate is a vicious mistress. You cannot trick her, you cannot change her, you cannot fix her. She is who she is. Just because the Almighty Raphael Santiago begs me to spill Fate's secrets, you think I should listen to you? No. I'm not allowed to do that."

Raphael straightened himself, standing upright again. He stared hard at the wooden floorboards. The storm outside did nothing to help him, the winds whipping about at unnatural speeds.

Her voice softened. The old woman leaned back in her armchair, relaxed once more. "I'm sorry. There are rules, Raphael. There is only a little more I can tell you. Can you take it like a man without yelling at an old woman?"

"Of course," he looked up with a small measure of guilt. "Please continue."

Olga was satisfied with his answer. Her grin was back now as she took a drag from her cigarette. "The vampire hunters are extremely dangerous, you know that. You've seen what they can do to your brethren; the lines they're willing to cross. They don't care who has been turned against their will or who has joined your ranks willingly, every vampire is an enemy. I'll give you a name, someone of theirs who was once taken advantage of — Theresa Lindsey."

By this point, Raphael was thoroughly confused. Who was this girl? 'Taken advantage of'? He'd never heard her name before. Olga just had to speak in a vague cloud so as to confuse and misdirect. He only hoped that by giving him this name, Raphael could use it to his advantage to stop the Chasseurs before any more of the Night's Children were murdered in cold blood.

"What should I do with this name?"

"That is up to you, Raphael." Olga's voice was firm. "But perhaps it would be smart to keep that knowledge hidden up your sleeve for awhile? It can never hurt to be extra cautious when you don't know whether there are hunter spies everywhere or something crazy like that." The sides of Olga's mouth quirked upwards in amusement, telling him that this was probably another clue he should investigate. If the old woman would've been born with eyes, Raphael knew they'd be twinkling at that moment.

He bowed his head to the woman, feeling suddenly guilty for snapping at her earlier. Raphael reached forward and grabbed one of Olga's bony, arthritic hands in his own. She even felt frail. "Thank you, Olga. I regret that you couldn't tell me more... at least now I have a name to look into. Name anything you need or want in return and it'll be yours."

Olga didn't hesitate. "Send me some nice and crispy _kotleti_ , lamb _pelmeni_ , and a bit of _medovik_. I haven't had a decent meal of my favorites like that in a while."

Raphael pulled back, a wide smile spreading across his lips. Why wouldn't the clairvoyant ask for food? He expected nothing else from her. The gift of food would be more than enough to smooth over how he'd previously acted with her. Before the vampire could open his mouth to speak, she quickly interjected again. "Alr—"

"Oh and have one of your boys come stock my pantry! I haven't gone shopping in a while and I'd prefer not to, right now. I'm busy watching things play out." It was eerie to hear the old woman say she was 'watching' things but Raphael knew exactly what Olga meant. She was staring into the future and keeping an eye on the present from her little apartment in Brooklyn.

Thunder rumbled in the sky outside, cracking the sky open as a flash of lightning made the darkness into daylight for a split second. Raphael glanced over his shoulder out the window but nodded to Olga once. "You got it."

Olga smiled sweetly. "Close the door on your way out, would you, dear?"

"Of course, Olga. Thank you."

Raphael let go of Olga's hand and left the apartment as quickly and as quietly as he could while the old woman born without eyes took a long drag from her cigarette. Lightning split the sky outside of her window and she stared at it as if she could see the monstrous weather marking the beginning of very challenging times ahead. "Oh," she hummed to herself, voice following Raphael down the stairs. " _'If only, if only!'_ The woodpecker sighs. _'The bark on the trees was as soft as the skies!'_ While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, he cries to the moon, _'If only, if only!'_ "

Olga continued humming to herself.


End file.
